Struggle of Wills
by AiriFox
Summary: Chuunin Exams are close again, and Shikamaru and Temari have a fair bit of work to do. However, Shikamaru is bound and detemined to avoid work, and Temari is just as intent on getting it done. What chaos will ensue as each tries to get their way? ShikaTem


**Author's Note: **Yes, I know, bad, bad AiriFox… I haven't posted anything in forever. The holiday season was a bit rough, and though I did have a couple rather cute Christmas ideas planned, by the time I found the initiative to get started it was already Christmas Eve. --

Anyways, regardless… I'm guessing with this I have a few new readers, considering this is my first Naruto fic (I mainly dabble around in Bleach and Warriors, but I've been known to venture in here to throw a couple comments out on other awesome fics). So, I hope my readers, both new and old, can enjoy this little slice of ShikaTema goodness. In all truth, this has to be one of my most poorly written stories a little on the OOC side, but I though the idea was cute enough to stand alone. :P

Heh, anyways, I don't own Naruto. If I did, Sasuke wouldn't have left and Kamatari would have a lot more screen/panel time. Yep.

---

If there was a god, Shikamaru concluded, it hated him.

He never _wanted_ to end up in the situation he was in - it was rather thrust upon him. He could tolerate helping the Fifth Hokage with the Chuunin Exams. He could tolerate being the guide of the Sunagakure ambassador. He could not tolerate, however, being locked in a room with the said ambassador, trying to cooperate in planning the aforementioned exams.

Especially when that ambassador was Temari of the Sand.

He had nothing against her on a personal level. Sure, she was troublesome. But then, any woman still breathing was considered troublesome by his standards. But man, did she _love_ work. In a tiny, cluttered and irritatingly stuffy office, she persistently leaned over a pile of paperwork, signing pages off and evaluating participants with unnerving efficiency. She only spoke when hollering at the raven-haired Chuunin to open the window (only to tell him to close it ten minutes later) and to futilely remind him to get started on his own hulking stack of papers.

The whole system was sickening to Shikamaru.

How could someone pour so much of their energy into _work_? This whole Chuunin Exams business was crap in the first place… All but maybe two or three participants would fail anyway, so what was the point? And here, this… This… Evil female creature was actually _trying _to get _work_ done? Disgusting. And that was the last thing he thought before dozing off into the blissful oblivion of a quiet, afternoon catnap.

…And of course, it wasn't too long before he shot straight up, awoken by a sharp, throbbing pain in his right temple. He rubbed the lingering tiredness from his dark eyes and look down at the desk.

A pen.

He looked to his left.

An angry Temari.

He looked down at the pen again, while lightly fingering the wound on his temple.

And thus, his mind - clever as ever - made the connection. The angry Temari had thrown the pen at him. And, let it be noted, she had quite the throwing arm to inflict such damage with an innocuous _pen._

_Tch… Typical women…_ he thought while stifling a yawn. He turned his gaze once more to the wind-user, onyx-dark eyes boring into sparking, vivid teal. For a moment, they stared each other down - a sort of unspoken struggle for dominance. Finally, Temari spoke.

"Get to work." she ordered in a low, taut voice. "You've accomplished nothing in the past three hours."

"I know." was his response. He knew his comment would effectively rile her up, but he really didn't care at this point. Maybe she'd get angry and knock him out, or something along those lines. Then he wouldn't suffer through this misery. Actually, that was beginning to sound like a good idea…

"Nara, enough with the cutesy smarty-pants act. Get something done or the Hokage will have your head."

"Cheh… Not too worried about it. Women have been beating me since I was born. You, Miss Bearer-of-the-Fan-of-Death, are a prime example…" he gestured vaguely to her, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. Just as predicted, she reacted in typical Temari-fashion. A low and irritated wolfish growl resonated in her throat, her sea-breeze eyes narrowed to slits, the toned muscles in her shoulder tensed and telltale creases lined her forehead and the bridge of her nose as her lips pulled up. All in all, it gave the appearance of an angry ferret.

A very, very angry ferret.

"Damnit Nara! Get your lazy butt back to those applications or I'll get it to work for you!"

"Ooh… Trying to whip me into shape now?" he mimed the motion of cracking a whip. "Save the breath, it won't work…" Suddenly, that furious face was pressed near his, noses near centimeters apart. She certainly wasn't shy when it came to trying to 'persuade' the idle shinobi.

"Shikamaru…" Temari's voice was heavy - dripping - with warning.

"Temari…" he mimicked her tone before continuing, "By the way, your breath smells very nice… Do you use mint toothpaste?" The kunoichi was momentarily thrown off by the random compliment and it took her more than a moment to recover. She was used to battles of sharp words and just-as-sharp weapons, not… Fluffy little bits of adulation and flattery.

"Quit trying to change the subject! You and I both know you're trying to avoid your doing anything that requires even the slightest bit of physical exertion." she spat "So, start acting more the responsible man you're always babbling about in your preconceived sex role tangents and get to work!" Shikamaru couldn't help but cock an eyebrow. And she said _he _went on tangents? Regardless, it was time for step two of his new plan.

"You have nice hair. It's sorta gold, and the highlights suit you." Once more, Temari seemed taken aback and was showing obvious signs of her confusion. Her hand fluttered to her back, as if to grab hold of the great steel fan, but then instead loosened the scarlet sash at her waist - a kind of edgy, nervous gesture. She swallowed and looked him in the eye, her analytical - though flustered - mind trying to figure out what kind of game he was playing.

_A stalling tactic… _She finally deduced. He could keep this up forever - Temari knew she needed to find a way to resolve this unspoken struggle. At this point, the argument was less about paperwork and more an assertion of dominance, like who could outfox the other in the twisted thing their friendship was.

Temari was never a good loser.

Her hand flew once more to the gleaming weapon at her back, and she pulled the heavy fan free with unnerving ease.

"Once last chance, Nara. Get to work."

"Your eyes are lovely when you're mad. Their teal color is a lot more radiant." Those same eyes widened, and the clatter of the fan dropping echoed throughout the room. Temari of the Sand, who stared down danger and then proceeded to laugh at it, had lost her resolve to the compliments she'd never before received. For a moment, she stood, he sat and they merely stared at each other. Then, the awkward silence was shattered by Shikamaru's yawning.

"Well, that worked out nicely. " he managed during the prolonged yawn.

Temari cocked a thin, sand-blonde brow. "What do you mean?"

"Looks like my guess was right, but what's new there? The quickest way to a woman's mind is through her heart." He stretched languidly in his seat. "And I gotcha. You fell victim right away… How you last so long in battle when a simple comment throws you off is beyond me."

"So…" Confusion and subtly growing anger battled in her gaze, "You really didn't mean any of it?"

"What do you think?" he drawled, still not letting her eyes look away.

"You…" The sand shinobi's voice was a hiss - a rasping whisper, "You… slacker-jerk!" She turned away, before pacing back and forth throughout the room like a hungry lioness. "And for god's sake! At least work if you're going to insult me!"

"Did I ever insult you?"

"I'm not in the mood for your mind games, boy!"

Shikamaru was persistent. "Did I ever insult you? Answer me."

"I don't need to answer to you."

"You're acting childish right now, Temari."

"You're always acting childish, Shikamaru."

"Did I ever insult you?"

Temari sighed. Their bickering was going nowhere at all. "No, wai- yes."

"What did I say?"

"You said 'what do you think' in that condescending tone directly after issuing a series of compliments. Now, if we knew each other on a more personal level, your tone could be indicating a sort of sarcasm in response to my own comments, thus indicating you did indeed say those things sincerely. But, as it stands, we having nothing even resembling a relationship between casual acquaintanceship so 'what do you think' is pretty much saying all your compliments were false." She whipped around, searching his expression as if to guess what his next move would be.

"I'd say you'd have to know me on a personal level to analyze me that well." He smirked. If she wanted to play this game, he was all for it. "And if, we really can read each other's minds that well, then I'd say that constitutes personal. Therefore, maybe what I said was a kind of sarcasm and I do really think you don't look entirely bad."

"Or, you could just be acting like typical lazy-ass Shikamaru and you're trying to reverse-psychology your way out of this as to avoid any 'troublesome'," she emphasized her point with air-quotes, "situations."

Things were quiet for a moment before Shikamaru spoke. "You have nice legs." Temari responded with a kind of strangled growl. This entire conversation was going in circles. Complete circles with no progress - nothing. It was then Shikamaru stood, shuffling over to face her. He looked down into her eyes and she glared up with equal force - a kind of calm iciness. Suddenly, his lips quickly pressed over hers and Temari went rigid with shock. It was a soft sort of peck, lasting a fraction of a second, but enough to send electrifying waves of confusion racing through her brain. As quick as he came, Shikamaru pulled away before crossing his arms over his chest and staring off to the side, the impossible-to-hide pink flush of embarrassment seeping into his cheeks. And Temari was left shocked - half at his actions and half at her own wanting _more _of the innocently delightful contact. It was… Absurd.

And neither spoke. Until…

"I win." Shikamaru whispered, stretching his arms above his head and arching his spine.

And Temari, ever as desperate to save face, responded. "What in the hell was that about? Y-you ki-k-k-"

"Kissed you?"

"Yes. And it was completely uncalled for!"

"Fine… Fine…" Shikamaru drawled, cracking his neck. "I try to be nice and I end up getting screamed at for it. I can't stand the female race."

"Yes, great for you. Now get back to work!" Realizing that perhaps this was one argument he couldn't win no matter what clever tactic he tried play, Shikamaru heaved a sigh and flopped down in the wooden chair once more. He picked up a random sheet of paper, running his eyes over the words written on it, finding it near impossible to concentrate while the room was so stuffy. The soft scribbling from Temari told him she was already writing, and had evidently found a replacement pen. Frustrated, he looked away from the paper and sighed again.

"Y'know, you have such soft lips…" Yet another pen connected with Shikamaru's head.

"Get writing!"

-

The sad thing is, this is exactly how I'd picture a canon relationship with these two. Always bickering and arguing and such about the most trivial of things.

For a bit of backstory, this entire fic is loosely based off a conversation I had with my BF back sometime in November. I went to his house and he had math homework that was due, like, the next day. He kept trying to get out of the homework, and I was all like "You're doing the homework whether you like it or not, moron!". He never did finish the homework that night… --

Anyways, comments and constructive criticism will be rewarded with muffins. Because everyone loves muffins, right?


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